


Now I Can Rest

by anistarrose



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AU of an AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brief blood mention, Gen, Nightmares, Stangst, WhatWouldTeslaDo, warnings and other tags will probably update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 13:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16265288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anistarrose/pseuds/anistarrose
Summary: After waking up from a nightmare, Stan takes a bit longer than he should have to fit the pieces together. WWTD AU.





	Now I Can Rest

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic based off of the Paranoid Ford askblog [WhatWouldTeslaDo](https://whatwouldteslado.tumblr.com/) by Fordanoia, this one an AU of the AU. I’m not promising updates, but… well, let’s just say that I’m weak for happy endings, and this fic in its current state is most definitely… not. It’s not an _inherently_ good or bad end, it’s just… a different end.
> 
> (I posted this on Tumblr a bit earlier, and was told to "go to my room and think about what I'd done." So don't say I didn't warn you.)

The familiar, firm grip of a six-fingered hand on his shoulder jolted Stan out of a nightmare, dragging him back to reality, to the dimly lit kitchen he’d dozed off in. He knew the dampness on his hands was sweat, not blood, and that the real Ford was… was not _unharmed_ , but _alive_ — he knew that the dream of finding his brother’s maimed, lifeless form locked up in that room was just that, a _dream_ , but he was still shaking —

_don’t let ford know about it_ — _he’s got enough on his plate right now_ —

“Stanley, I need your help _right now_.” Ford’s voice was hushed, but tense with what could only be anticipation. “We — we need to do this before Bill realizes what I’ve planned.”

“What?” _avoid eye contact_ — _don’t freak him out even more than he already is_ — _why am i so warm why am i still shaking_ “Do _what_ , Ford? What did you —”

Stan noticed the object Ford had just picked up from the table with his good hand, its design unmistakeable. “ _No_. Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you fucking think for a _second_ that I’m gonna erase your mind.”

He dove for the memory gun but stumbled, nearly tripping on the flat kitchen floor.

“Stanley, are — are you _okay_? What happened to you?” 

“I’d be a hell of a lot better if you dropped that gun,” Stan growled. 

Ford gasped, and held it close to his chest, arm trembling as he shook his head rapidly. “No, Stanley, it’s — it’s _okay_! I modified it.”

“You what?”

Ford lowered his voice. “I altered the frequency of the radiation pulse it emits. Now, we can blast Bill out of my mind without damaging my memories at all! So I need your help _this instant_ , before Bill realizes that we have this advantage now!”

“R-really?” Stan asked, through suddenly chattering teeth. “It’s… it’s t-that easy?”

“Yes, exactly that easy!” Ford told him hurriedly, pressing the memory gun into Stan’s hands. Sure enough, the entry screen had seemingly been messed with so it no longer displayed anything, and the input dial had been taped in place. “I’m going to go outside to summon Bill and let him into my mind. You wait in here, where he can’t see you, until you see me collapse, then come out and fire. You don’t have to input anything — I’ve, uh, already set it up so that it’s set to erase _Bill Cipher_ , and Bill Cipher alone. Have you got all that?”

Stan managed a nod, and Ford rushed outside, first chanting something that was probably Latin and then yelling that he wanted to make a deal to let Stan and Fiddleford go safe. The exact words didn’t register for Stan — they really _should_ have; Stan really should have been _ecstatic_ to have a chance to destroy that lying triangular bastard, but instead he felt nothing but a sinking feeling, no doubt thanks to that nightmare.

(It _had_ to be because of the nightmare, didn’t it? Not about Ford’s own behavior, his own jitteriness and look of desperation…)

Outside, Ford collapsed to his knees, his good arm hanging down limp so that his curled fingers grazed the top of the snowdrift. Stan stumbled outside, raised the gun to shoot —

 _What do_ you _know about how memory guns actually work, Stan? About whether it’s actually_ possible _to_ —

His finger squeezed the trigger a millisecond before the line of thought could complete itself, could work its way to his muscles, could stop him from making the worst mistake in a life full of nothing but horrible mistakes. The sinking feeling _consumed_ him, as if he was falling through that bottomless pit that the gray-faced askers kept bringing up, and he found himself letting the memory gun fall to the ground, and then falling to his knees himself, wrapping his arms around his brother —

“Ford?! Ford, can you hear me?! Sixer?! Please, say something, Ford, tell me you’re still there — tell me I didn’t — I didn’t _erase_ you —”

For either a minute or an eternity, the only noises in the world were Stan’s sobs, muffled by the drifts of snow surrounding them, but finally, _finally_ the man with six fingers on each hand and one broken arm spoke — and it made Stan long for the time just seconds ago, when he’d still held onto a faint glimmer of hope, when he’d still been able to deny what he’d known deep down from the beginning: that his brother had lied about altering the memory gun.

“ _Who’s Ford_?”

***

 **whatwouldteslado post** (9:33 P.M.)

_I have something I’d like to look into for a while, so I may be away from the device. Stanley and Fiddleford are getting Much Needed Rest. Updates will likely follow later tonight._

**whatwouldteslado post** (9:45 P.M.)

_Fyns Fxeqphp M'e laltf._

**whatwouldteslado post** (10:31 P.M.)

_wwhich one of yo ucowardly manipulative FUCKERS did it_

**whatwouldteslado post** (10:31 P.M.)

_WHO fucking gave e him the idea_

**whatwouldteslado post** (10:34 P.M.)

_you really don’g get whhat you jus tdid to my brother do you_

***

At 10:35 P.M., the device was smashed against the floor of the shack.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments and feedback are welcomed as always!
> 
> (Feel free to ask for help if you can't get the cipher, but keep in mind that in WWTD Ford generally leaves clues for himself to decode the harder ciphers again later, in case he forgets the key.)


End file.
